


She Wolf

by GorillaInTheMist



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst, Confusion, F/M, Fluffy, Post Game, Power Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:25:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GorillaInTheMist/pseuds/GorillaInTheMist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mishap with the broken orb sends Solas and Ellana back in time to an alternate Arlathan. Solas is marked with the anchor and Ellana...well she has become something significantly more powerful. He messed up big time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Wolf

The battle had not quite gone exactly to plan. Yes, Corypheus was obliterated, but his only chance at regaining his power and freeing his people was destroyed. His heart shattered, just like the lifeless stone sphere sitting in front of him. What now?

Solas dropped to the ground palpating the three pieces of his foci. “The orb.” He whispered.

“I’m sorry. I know you had wanted us to recover it.” She spoke to him in an attempt to comfort. For the past few weeks she had avoided him, yelled at him, spoken to him full of apathy, and now…now she pitied him. He did not deserve her energy. He was a sad, sad man who had consistently betrayed everything he ever came to love; it was his nature. Much to her misfortune, he loved her.

“This was not supposed to happen.” His head dropped. His former lover moved to sit down beside him.

“Solas?” Her small elbow nudged his side. “We could just put it back together, right?” Her voice was full of hope. Perhaps she was expecting an explanation, or alluding to them being reunited. He had promised the prior once the battle was won. It was a hollow promise.

“It is not that simple. Inquisitor.” Using her title instead of her name made part of him wince. She had been referred to as some form of endearment for months and then….nothing. Sterile. Removed. The Inquisitor.

“I think it is that simple.” She grabbed an adjacent part of the orb and rolled it around in her hands. “You never know if you don’t try.” Ellana articulated her section with the one held in his hand.

He could feel some sort of pulse emanating from between their hands. The orb was responding? This was unexpected. No. This was wrong. Something was wrong. The formerly silent stone began to glow a sickly green color.

“No! Elle, run!” He yelled in panic, but it was too late. Before either of them could move the orb exploded outward enfolding them in a blossoming green tear.

* * *

 

 Solas jolted awake. “Elle?” he whispered full of panic. He sat up, but his vision was still blurred from forced slumber.

There was a pleasant breeze and beneath him was….grass? Last he remembered they were on the stone at the Temple of Sacred Ashes floating in the air. There was nothing pleasant or plush about it. It appeared that the orb had taken him somewhere....but where? And where was she? Where was his _vhenan_?

Sickness rolled over him. What if she was gone? Pulled from reality. It would be his fault. It was always his fault. He had done his best to protect her, even when it meant hurting her. If she was gone, she would have died thinking he didn’t care, that she had done something to make him reject her love.

He rested his forehead in his palm trying to make the world around him stop spinning. The air was thick with magic, just as it was in Arlathan. The garden around him seemed to shimmer in the light of the sun. This was a courtyard in some grand structure. Had he been thrown back to his past?

“My, my, what have I found?” A diverted voice sang out. It was her.

“Elle.” He whispered hopefully.

“Not quite, _da’len_?”

He turned to look behind him. It was her, certainly, but yet, it was not. Her hair was cropped to her chin and was blowing free in the wind. She was not in armor, but rather a flowing burgundy gown reminiscent of those worn in Arlathan. It flowed in the breeze, the overlay translucent chiffon. The arms were only gathered at her shoulder and elbow, showing off her battle honed arms.

His hand tingled and then shocked him. The anchor. He was now in possession of the anchor. This did not bode well. He needed more time, needed to listen and plan. Silence would be the safest choice until he could no longer avoid it. He formed his face into a mask of placid confusion and gazed up at this Not-Ellana.

“I go to take a turn about my gardens and what do I find? A man, dressed for battle, lounging in my path. How strange indeed?” She circled around to kneel in front of him and stroked his cheek gently. “You have wandered into a dangerous place, my little halla.” She was a predator.

Her scolding giggle made his insides twist. The voice that was once so sweet held an undertone of venom in it. Her body’s posture was completely different, more assertive, and extremely graceful. Every movement like it was a dance.

She had no idea who he was. _Da’len_? Little halla? Who was she to call him such mocking things? If this was Arlathan, then he should be known as he truly was: Fen’Harel.

“Were you some gift to me? June does owe me, but no….you are unmarked. Perhaps a trick? Andriul does love toying with me. Whoever brought you here seems to have my type completely wrong.” Her hand cupped his chin, turning his face this way and that. The face he once loved staring him down like a wolf does its prey.

“I suppose you are handsome enough.” She finally accepted him, “Though, I do not take slaves. If you stay, you do so of your own will.”

Ignorance may be his best bet.  The prideful were easily tricked into thinking they knew more than anyone else, he had experienced such an existence for some time in his past.

“ _Ir abelas_ , my lady, but I know not who you are, nor where I am.” His face remained blank and he manufactured wonder in his voice.

“Feigning ignorance will win you no favors. I saw the spark of recognition in your eyes, _da’len_. You know who I am.” Her laughter was full of mocking and vanity, there was nothing joyous about it. “How does the saying go? Never play a player?”

“I found my way here in search of sanctuary.” She didn’t take slaves, perhaps it was best to act like a runaway one. “My master was cruel and slaves whisper of your kindness hoping to discover it for themselves.” He stood in front of her attempting to look downtrodden. Doing his best to keep his left hand hidden from her view. If he could keep her from seeing it, maybe it would be obscured by the magic that surrounded them and unnoticed.

One of her brows raised so high it looked as if it tried to escape her face. “Oh really?” She turned to face him, brushing her front against his. He suddenly became aware of how low the front of her dress was cut, permitting him a breathtaking view of her cleavage. “Is that what they whisper about me?”

“And that your beauty is without match.” The flattery flowed naturally from his trickster tongue. The fact that he was using it to his advantage did not diminish the truth of her attractiveness.

A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips. “You’re very good. I almost admire your skills, but trying to trick a goddess is poor form.” She lifted up onto her toes, her lips brushing his ear seductively. “You do think I am beautiful though.” He let out a soft gap as her teeth bit playfully onto the edge of his ear.

“Now, shall you tell me the truth, or shall I find ways to be more convincing?” He could feel her mana beginning to pool around him. Her very presence radiated seduction as well as the latent danger of punishment.

What would he have done if the tables were turned? The truth, perhaps? It was interesting, made him exotic to her. Alluring.  Yes, a version of the truth could do well. “I was experimenting with new magic and somehow was deposited here.” He shrugged resting a hand on her waist. Her body was still touching his, warm and tempting.

Her mahogany eyes quickly gazed around his face, judging his features for lies, but she would find none. This was the truth….mostly.

She looked at him in disbelief. “A good story, _falon_ , but try again.”

The familiar stranger stood extending a hand for him to follow her further along the path. “How did you come to this place, _ma’len_?” It was now time to fall back on the surprise hidden in his palm.

When he placed his hand in hers the anchor shocked her. Elle quickly took away her hand and examined her palm. “Curious…” her voice slightly shook. His lover’s hands forcefully grabbed his marked hand into hers, studying the anchor.

“Who are you?” The humor in her voice was replaced with anger.

Solas remained silent.

“I will not ask again. You are marked by my magic; who are you?”

A plan formed quickly in his mind. “I am Solas. I am your _vhenan_.”

“That is news to me, _da’len_.” She laughed cruelly. “I suggest you do not lie to me, again. I am not always so kind.”

“I was not lying when I said that time magic was at play, my lady. You sent me back, against my will, to protect me from battle. The mark is, I guess, so that you would recognize yourself in me. I didn’t know you could do such things. Where am I, Ellana?” He let shine through his true love for her as well as the agony he felt in his betrayal. His unmarked hand caressed her cheek.

“You should fear me.” She sighed, examining the pain in his eyes. “I kept my identity from you?”

“To me, you are Ellana. The most wonderful young mage I had ever laid eyes on, _ma vhenan’ara_. I would have never expected….this.” he gestured around him.

She averted her eyes, speaking to herself. “I did not tell you the truth, then sent you back here?”

“The battle to come seemed hopeless.” He said plainly. “We went away, secluded. I figured that it was just us having a final moment of peace before what seemed like our inevitable deaths. You kept saying something about telling me the truth, about how I mattered to you, but you had never expected to…to love me.” True tears threatened his eyes and he took a deep breath. “Then, you kissed me like we would never touch again. You whispered that you were so sorry. You took my hand in yours. Pain flooded my arm and then everything was dark. I woke up here.”

His lie was not carefully fabricated, but it was convincing. Even he was feeling moved by it. It was a version of their life together. If he had the power to, he would have protected her from the impending doom by any means necessary. Instead, he left her broken hearted. In this strange universe, he was in her position.

“I am so sorry.” Her voice tranquil. “Well, stranger, welcome. You will be safe in my home.” Her hand brushed an escaped tear away from his cheek. The gentleness of his love punched through the façade of power. “I fear that there is much to discuss. You should get cleaned up, and then….I will explain.”

A sentinel rushed up to the duo. “My lady, are you alright? Who is this man?” the willowy elf pulled out a sword and pointed it toward Solas.

“A new friend, Var’Samhal. Please find him a room…preferably one near mine.” She winked at him, her irreverent mask was pulled back on tight, and walked off back toward the entrance to the building.

“Yes, My lady Fen’Harel.” The man bowed as she passed.

“The Lady, Fen’Harel?” Solas choked out. It was a truth that he had been avoiding admitting for the past few minutes. If he had the power of the anchor, it only made sense that she would have taken up his essence. His poor, _vhenan_. He would wish being the Dread Wolf upon no one. _Fenedhis_!

“Where else did you think you were, stranger?” He answered protectively. “She is a lady of divine mercy and joy. Goddess of those who struggle, especially slaves. You should consider yourself lucky to find yourself here. Many pray for their whole lives to come into her care.”

The orb had betrayed him. Now, he was just Solas and he was at the mercy of….himself. Well, not himself, but his heart’s version of what he was. He wasn’t really that bad as a youth….was he? She would aid him if she could…unless there was a more fun to be had. If he was lucky, she would have retained her generous nature. If he was unlucky, well, things would not go well if that were the case.

He needed to get back.

He needed to fix this.


End file.
